To a great many people in Canada and the United States, France’s headscarf fiasco made absolutely no sense. Why on earth would there be an issue over Muslim women wearing a headscarf in the classroom. Surely, there was something deeply anti-Muslim in all of this. Or so many people thought. Why? Because in North America, people can wear any ostensible religious sign they wish to the classroom; and this is taken to be the ultimate in religious freedom. So it seemed to many that in the name of being neutral with regard to religion, France was in fact being anti-Muslim. One could not be more wrong.
A little history is in order. For 100 years, France has a very strong principle of religious neutrality in official public spaces. This principle even has its own unique name: laïcité. If one wants to talk about neutrality between countries or people or whatever, one does not use the term laïcité. The origins of this principle had nothing whatsoever to do with Islam. Quite the contrary, the problem was the Catholic Church. In 1905, the French passed a law that re-affirmed its commitment to the idea of laïcité, while also affirming the states commitment to liberty of conscience. The idea, quite simply, is that in all matters of the state, including education, it is French citizenship that counts first.
It is this principle that was re-affirmed yet again in 2004:
Dans les écoles, les collèges et les lycées publics, le port de signes ou tenues par lesquels les élèves manifestent ostensiblement une appartenance religieuse est interdit (Art. L. 141-5-1-[see 1st attachment below for the text]).
The article forbids the wearing of ostensible religious objects. The headscarf and the yarmulke are forbidden; a small cross around the neck is not.
Now, it is interesting that many Americans regard as utterly indefensible France’s idea of laïcité. Yet, these very same people applaud the American idea of free speech which, as it happens, does not exist in France nor, for that matter, in Canada. At least not in the way that free speech exists in the United States.
So which is better: (i) A country like France that identifies a public space in which citizenship counts first, but which places important restrictions on freedom of speech or (ii) A country like the United States which allows ostensible religious symbols to be wrong anywhere, and which places no restrictions on free speech (with simple exception of public safety: one may not shout “fire” in a public theater simply in order to exercise one’s lungs).
Anyone who thinks that religious freedom is better protected in the United States might want to think again. In the U.S., a person may in the name of freedom of speech teach that all Jews are devils. Leonard Jeffries (CUNY) and Tony Martin (Wellesley College) did just that. One may not teach such a thing in French college and universities. Tomorrow, I could choose to denounce the Muslim faith in my classroom and, in all likelihood, get the ACLU to protect my freedom to do so. Not so in France. The (in)famous book The Bell Curve (by Richard J. Herrnstein and Charles Murray) created quite a stir in the United States, because implied that blacks are intellectually inferior to whites. But one thought for a moment that in printing the book the publisher a law had been violated. By contrast, when the book Rêver la Palestine (by Elie Ebidia) was published in France, the issue of whether French law had been violated became a legitimate issue, if the book could be properly interpreted as antisemitic.
Now, I suggest that freedom of speech is to the United States what the principle of religious neutrality—that is, laïcité—is to France. If tomorrow, a bunch of religious folks (pick a group) were to complain that freedom of speech (because there is so much talk and advertisement about sexuality) was interfering with their ability to be religious, the response would be quite simple: Deal with it! Yet, it is certainly true that for many religious folks (be they Jewish, Christian, or Muslim), freedom of speech has increasingly become an assault on their religious sensibilities. Americans think that a person should be strong enough in her or his religious convictions to withstand all the talk about sex and alcohol on radio and television and in newspapers and magazines. In this respect, of course, France and the United States are rather alike. However, I have identified an important respect in which France is more protective of religious groups, its principle of laïcité notwithstanding, than the United States. Which is better, then? Each system offers different benefits vis à vis religious groups; each system different drawbacks.
Now, it seems to me that those who worship the god of diversity are no position to complain. For isn’t diversity about validating the fact that there are different ways of being in the world, coupled with the view that there can be no basis for claiming that one way is superior to the another? In Muslim countries, the headscarf is de rigueur. Don’t proponents of diversity have to say that this is just fine? In fact, many do say that. The U.S. by contrast has a complete laissez-faire approach to wearing religious symbols. And that, too, is just fine. Not superior, though. So it is something of a mystery to me how it turns out, according to advocates of diversity, that France’s approach to the headscarf issue via the principle of laïcité can be open to criticism. I would have thought that France’s approach is just one more way of going about things: no worse or no better than any other approach.
One thing is clear. Either we are committed to diversity with all that this implies or we are not. I suppose that even with a commitment to diversity explicit harm is not allowed, though this is not always obvious, since some people have even been willing to allow female circumcision (that is, the mutilation of female genitalia) in the name of diversity. In any event, it would appear that with regard to religious freedom France is as entitled to its approach as the U.S. is to its approach and as Muslim countries are to their approach.
It has seemed to me of late that what people believe in has more to do with what suits their agenda than a genuine depth of commitment. Neither conservatives nor liberals are immune to this criticism.
Two French hostages were captured in Iraq and one of the demands was that France set aside the principle of laïcité. The hope had been to divide France, creating even greater tension between the Muslims and the non-Muslims of France. But as was noted in an editorial in Le Monde (1 September 2004) this did not happen (see 2nd attachment below for the editorial):
Loin de diviser la communauté musulmane de France, loin de renforcer son aile la plus radicale, loin de creuser un fossé irrémédiable entre la société française et les quelques cinq millions de musulmans qui la composent, l’enlèvement des deux journalistes français a suscité un mouvement de communion nationale, presque d’union sacrée, encore bien improbable il y a peu.
Far from dividing separating the Muslim community from France, the capture of the two journalists gave rise to a national unity—very nearly a sacred union.
The issue of the headscarf in France is hardly dead. But it was never about oppressing Muslims; and it took the evil of taking as hostage two French journalists to bring that point home to the Muslim population of France.
